


Boom, Clap

by GoldStarGrl



Category: Veep
Genre: Basically I love that Lana Del Rey vibe, Heat Stroke, M/M, Sleepy Sex, Summer, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 08:25:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7525510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldStarGrl/pseuds/GoldStarGrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Holy shit, are you fucking scared of thunder?"</p><p>Dan couldn't verify in the blue-tinged night, but he was pretty sure Jonah flushed a little, blotchy and graceless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boom, Clap

July in D.C. was the fucking worst.

Temperatures climbed into the triple digits, without even the dignity to be a dry heat. The entire city needed a douche treatment. 

Even with his AC cranked - getting central air installed was one of the first purchases made with his lobbyist money - Dan lay awake, sweaty and feeling thoroughly gross. He found sharing his bed with Jonah, the human space heater, only compounded the feeling.

(It was the second or third time he'd spent the night that month. Whatever. It was what it was. Dan’s world was hectic enough without stopping to analyze why he slept better with Jonah goddamn Ryan in arm’s reach.)

Outside his window, thick gray clouds, swollen with rain, crowded the night sky, blocking out the moon and stars. Dan watched their slow drift for awhile, grateful when the sky opened up and the drops began to fall, a sharp yellow flash of lightning hitting the Potomac. Maybe the water would help dampen the sweltering air outside. Or it might just add to the insufferable humidity. He wasn't a fucking scientist.

A crack of thunder reverberated through the room. Jonah's eyes popped open, in an almost cartoonish manner, at the noise.

His hand, slung lazily over Dan's side, took a more purposeful grip around his stomach, yanking him forcefully against Jonah's. Dan yelped.

"Ow, fuck off,” he said, twisting out of the iron grip and turning on his side to face Jonah.

"Sorry, I-sorry." Jonah seemed far more awake when the next lightning strike illuminated his face. With the sound of the following thunder, he quickly, but noticeably, flinched. Dan's eyebrows lifted.

"Holy shit, are you fucking _scared of thunder_?"

Dan couldn't verify in the blue-tinged night, but he was pretty sure Jonah flushed a little, blotchy and graceless.

"Fuck no. Only thing I'm scared of is the ladies of DC going into heat because I'm here and not-" Another clap of thunder, louder this time, almost on top of the lightning. Jonah cringed again.

Dan snorted. He couldn’t help it. "Are you fucking five?"

Jonah didn't open his eyes, but his jaw shifted minutely, almost trembled. Dan sighed and rolled flat on his back, listening to the rain pounding on the window panes for a moment.

"This tree in Nashua got hit by lightning and it fell into my neighbor's house and fucking killed him, thunderstorms are fucking dangerous,” Jonah huffed.

"It comes with rain, Jonad. You remember water, right? It keeps us alive in this swamp where it’s a hundred and six degrees?”

"This city should not exist. It's a testament to man's arrogance,” Jonah said, in a stilted voice that sounded like he was quoting someone.

"Is that Thoreau?"

" _King of The Hill_." Jonah sat up and leaned over Dan with his arm out. It seemed he was going to lay on top of Dan, kiss him maybe, but he just started groping Dan's bedside table, knocking his glasses and a bottle of Five Hour Energy off the side. Dan caught his wrist.

"Stop, you china shop fucking bull."

"Chill, I'm looking for my headphones," he muttered, avoiding Dan's gaze.

Dan groaned, took hold of his other wrist, and pushed. After a second of resistance, Jonah allowed himself to be pushed onto his back.

Dan followed the momentum, kicking off the suffocating sheets, slinging his leg over Jonah's hip, which was hot through flannel pajama pants.

"Fuck your headphones," he said, grinding down against Jonah's groin. Jonah rolled his eyes.

"Those are awesome headphones, Dan. Noise filtering, sub-woofer padding, 5.1 surround sound." Jonah canted his hips up slightly as he spoke, growing stiffer. He wrapped his hands around Dan's hips, but Dan shook loose.

"Those are nonsense words." He replied, lifting himself into an awkward squat to peel off his underwear. “How the fuck do you not know that shit? You’re like a Geek Squad advertisement.”  Dan tossed his briefs to the ground with the plethora of his personal items Jonah already knocked over.

“Oh, screw you.” Another flash, another clap. Jonah closed his eyes, holding on tighter. Dan reached down and pulled Jonah's boxers down with his pajama pants. It only took a few strokes, plus dropping his own weight back down, rubbing skin against skin, for Jonah to get fully hard, his flushing unmistakeable now.

"You're such a little freak, Egan," Jonah mumbled, reaching between Dan's legs, spread wide by his straddle. "Being attracted to fear is some serial killer level shit."

"I'm not fucking...Jesus." Dan didn't bother to finish his defense, distracted by Jonah's thick finger circling his entrance, then pushing in. When another joined it, and then a third, Dan found himself unable to stop from pushing back on them, his face warming as he did.

Another bolt of lightning flickered outside the window, looking like a massive camera flash, photographing the disgusting reality of the nation's esteemed capital.

"You know," Dan said, his voice a little more breathy than he preferred. "You can count the seconds between lighting strikes and the thunder, and the number is how many miles away the center of the storm is."

"Really?" Jonah managed to find the bottle of lube and a new condom with one wandering hand. Funny how coordinated he became when he really focused. The thunder banged even louder, shaking the frame of Dan's apartment.

Jonah's hands palmed Dan's ass, spreading him open, arching down against the mattress so Dan could lower himself onto his cock, bottoming out in time with another flash.

His hands slid up under Dan's t-shirt, which stuck to his shoulder blades and the small of his back with damp sweat, and looked up at him expectantly.

And so Dan began to move, fucking himself up and down the length of Jonah's dick as Jonah held on tight. "One." He started. "Two. Three."

"You're counting too fast," Jonah murmured.

"I'm not going to say 'Mississippi' while I'm having sex." The thunder clapped. "You made me fuck up."

"Just keep going." Jonah thrust up again, with enough force to elicit an involuntary groan. Dan obediently pulled himself up and pushed himself down, occasionally counting how far away the storm was getting, and feeling strangely, almost beautiful. It was an embarrassing, delicate word to describe the moment, but the only one that seemed to fit.

In the quiet, small hours of the morning, wearing nothing but his sweaty _Get Moving_ t-shirt like a goddamn Katherine Heigl rom com character. The world outside rumbled and sparked and flooded, and all he really heard was Jonah’s wet gasps and swears, all he really saw was how Jonah gradually stopped reacting to anything but Dan riding him. His hazel eyes grew dark, heavy lidded and nearly reverent at the sight.

He held Dan steady on his hips, filling him up, hitting _that spot_ with a persistent, forceful rhythm, deep and steady, matched up with Dan's own counting.

Dan came with a soft expletive, drowned out by the pounding rain, and doubled over, half-slumped against Jonah's chest as Jonah thrust into him a few more times before softening and delicately pulling out.

They lay there, sticky, but not much more sticky than they'd already been, until Dan noticed the rain was getting softer, and the night sky hadn't lit up in a while. He rolled off of Jonah, scanning the dark ground for his underwear for a moment before deciding, fuck it, he'd look for them in the morning with the rest of his remaining dignity.

"Thanks," Jonah mumbled.

Dan shrugged, burrowing a little more insistently against Jonah, resting his head in the crook of his neck.

"It's still so fucking hot."

"Yeah, I have that effect on a room, nameen?"

Dan reached behind him and lightly slapped his thigh. "Shut up."

Jonah smirked, already drifting off.


End file.
